The Complications of Having a Mistress
by george's firework
Summary: Draco's at school, and Narcissa is delivered some unfortunate news about Lucius and his fellow Death Eaters. It is a trembling Dobby who has to face her wrath and take her anger, will he live to tell the tale? N/D, Dr/Pansy, implied Dr/Hr.


**So, this is my second entry for the "Just A Dream" Challenge, I hope you enjoy.**

**Any references to A Very Potter Sequel are purely coincidental.**

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><p>"DOBBY!"<p>

Dobby's head jerked up and he dropped the pan he had been scrubbing. It landed on his foot with a large crash and he gave a yelp that was half due to the pain of dropping an iron pan onto his foot, and half due to the fear of what his mistress was going to ask him to do now.

"DOBBY!"

"Coming, mistress!" Dobby squeaked and hurried upstairs to find Narcissa pacing in front of the window in her room without pause. She didn't look up when he entered the room. He swallowed nervously; she was holding the Daily Prophet which had been delivered in time for breakfast.

"Mistress called Dobby?" Dobby said in a whisper, trembling with fear as she turned slowly.

"What is this?"

"'Tis the Daily Prophet, Mistress," Dobby whispered, then immediately gave a small shriek and started banging his head off a nearby table for his insolence. Narcissa stared at him with disbelief for a few moments before she shook her head and continued her pacing as she waited for him to stop punishing himself.

"Now, I trust you will answer me without your ignorant cheek this time?" Narcissa said in a dangerously soft voice, bending down so she was closer to the elf's level. He nodded, his eyes swimming with tears. "What is this?" She brandished the newspaper in his face, giving him an eyeful of the picture of Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban.

"Mister Snape delivered the newspaper this morning," Dobby whispered, looking at his feet. "He told Dobby that the attempt at getting the prophecy had failed, and Mister Dumbledore and Mister Chosen-One had defeated the Dark Lord once again. Dobby did not wish to tell Mistress because he hoped Mistress would perhaps not read the paper today, despite Dobby putting it on her breakfast tray…" Dobby trailed off miserably and waited for the explosion.

"Does Draco know?" Narcissa asked and Dobby looked up, startled. He had not been expecting that.

"No, Mistress. 'Tis a Saturday, Master Draco will still be in his bed. Mister Snape said the Dark Lord has already had other servants working on getting them out of there, Mistress. Master Lucius should be home soon," Dobby bowed with his promise and began to edge backwards towards the door, still bowing.

"Dobby!" Narcissa snapped and Dobby let out a very small sigh. He had been hoping that his speech had placated Narcissa and he could go back to dusting the area between the bookcase and the wall. Slowly, he turned back around to face his Mistress and jumped when she was a lot closer than he had thought.

"Dobby, I'll need someone to keep me company whilst Lucius is in Azkaban," she whispered and he gulped. "Draco isn't coming home for the Easter holidays, so I will be dreadfully lonely," Narcissa sighed, her minty breath washing over his face. She leaned back and walked away, collapsing into a chair in front of the fireplace with a morose expression on her face.

"Mistress, Dobby is being a mere house elf, how could he possibly be of any entertainment?" Dobby squeaked, though he was well aware of what she meant. She scowled at him and beckoned him closer.

"Do not play dumb, Dobby, you are well aware of what I am implying." Dobby shuddered slightly and Narcissa's frown deepened. "How dare you react in such a way!"

"Dobby is sorry, Mistress! But Dobby thought that after the incident last time, it would never happen again! Dobby does not want to be punished by Master Lucius again," Dobby whimpered, wincing solely at the memory of the punishment Lucius had bestowed upon him when he had found out.

"Dobby, dare you disobey your Mistress?"

"But… But Mistress, Dobby does not wish to disobey. But, Dobby is wondering, what if it happens again?"

"Well, in the unlikely event that it does, we shall simply do as we did the previous time. I'll Confund Lucius and, in this case, Draco, and you will use your elfin magic to ensure that the baby looks precisely like Lucius, again." Narcissa leaned forward in her chair and gazed at him with wide eyes. "We could easily pull it off, Dobby. We managed with Draco – nobody suspects a thing!" Dobby felt slightly sick as he looked at his Mistress's eager, pleading face. He vaguely wondered if life with Lucius as her husband was so bad that she would stoop to loving him, a simple house elf.

"Mistress, it is Dobby's life to serve, but… but…" Dobby was silenced by the unexpected kiss from Narcissa.

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><p>"Merlin's <em>balls<em>! Pansy, move, I'm going to be sick!" Draco roughly shoved Pansy away from him and threw himself across the room to the bathroom, where he promptly knelt in front of a toilet and emptied his stomach. There was a delayed shriek of protest from Pansy who had ended up on the floor. Draco shrugged it off and leaned weakly against the mercifully cold wall of the bathroom.

"Draco?" Pansy's sleepy voice reached him and he opened his eyes to see her standing in the doorway wrapped in a sheet. "What's wrong? Did you have something bad at dinner? If you did, I'm going to kill those house elves!" At the last two words, Draco turned a delicate shade of green and turned back to the toilet with a low moan. Pansy, awake now, hurried over to him and offered him a towel once he was done. He wiped his mouth gratefully and groaned.

"Draco? Please, tell me what's wrong." Pansy wrapped her arms around his neck and gazed into his eyes with searching concern. He pushed her away slightly and she frowned, affronted. "Draco?" She persisted.

"Just had the most disturbing dream… ever," he muttered. "Need room to breathe." Pansy's frown cleared and she nodded in understanding.

"Was it that one where Granger chases you around, thinking she's a chipmunk and you're an insect?" She asked sympathetically. "I always knew those teeth of hers would lead to unsettling nightmares. Gosh, imagine kissing her." Pansy shuddered dramatically and Draco rolled his eyes. Sure, Granger was a Mudblood, but for a Mudblood – and a Gryffindor at that - she was hot and her teeth weren't so bad anymore. Though, thinking of Granger reminded him of her weird love of house elves and that just reminded him of-

"Pansy, move, I'm going to be sick again," he moaned and shoved her away. She sighed and pulled her wand out of Merlin knows where, waved it, and smiled as Draco gave a sigh of relief as the feeling of nausea went away.

"Thanks, Pans," he stroked her hair affectionately, not wanting to show any more outward signs of affection in his state.

"You know I'm here for you, Drakey," Pansy beamed at him. "So, was a dream of Granger really bad enough to make you sick, like, four times?" She asked curiously and he shook his head.

"It wasn't about Granger, just something even more disturbing. If that's possible." Draco shook his head at the thought – he'd actually had dreams about Granger and woken up to find he was _very _uncomfortable, but he wasn't exactly going to tell Pansy that. Sighing, he stood up and, ever the gentleman he offered her a hand to help her to her feet.

"Are you coming back to bed now, Drakey?" Pansy asked hopefully, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Sorry, I need to go and send a letter. I'll be back later," Draco muttered, suddenly dismissive, then turned and hurried out of the dorm. He cast a quick Disillusionment charm on himself and hurried, surprisingly unhindered, to the owlery. He whistled for his owl, Majeste, and scribbled a quick note on a scrap of parchment he found lying around.

_Is Lucius Malfoy my father, or have you been lying to me for fifteen years? Mother, if you are my mother, did you have an affair with a… with a house elf?_

**Finite.**


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